Inquisitor's Path
by Sakura Kishimoto
Summary: The mighty Inquisition has met the culmination of their wits as they are faced with a game of wicked grace gone wrong in the hollow cold chambers of Celene's palace ball. Here she will truly find where the allegiance of her "allies." The art of warfare, the art of political charades, and the art of love. Three deadly sins.
**Cullen POV**

"She is hurting. Struggling with the weight power kindles on her shoulders. She stares at the mirror in a cold room searching for a familiar face. Reaching out to the mirror she whispers, "Who am I?" Swirling doubts and pleas of help flood her mind. She tries to cry-but finds no voice. A smile which is eclipsed by fear. She soon realizes, I can't trust anyone." Cole whispered with sorrow reflected in his eyes.

"I... I can't help her. There are locks to which I hold not the key."

The man in wide hat looks toward Cullen.

"Go to her," he said simply.

Cullen had a strange feeling that he knew who this strange man in strange clothing was. His memory fogged as he tried to recall a name..."C" was the only thing he could manage. It frustrated him, but he knew this man was trustworthy.

"To the Inquisitor?" He asked.

"Yes. The pain subsides in your presence. Like a shadow in the presence of light." Cole smiled softly.

Without another word, he left to go swiftly to her side. He knew how it felt to have the world falling apart on his shoulders. It is a weight no one should have to carry alone. He would have to remind her that weight is shared equally between every person in power in the Inquisition. He would remind her he would always be at her side no matter what decision she makes. That is of course because, he loved her so much. 

**Inquisitor POV (Persephone)**

It was the evening of Empress Celene's ball. The Inquisition was running around to make sure all proper protocols were being followed. Formal attire was distributed to the Inquisitor and her advisors as well as her companions joining her for the fight. Josephine made rounds to each one of them instructing them twice, no trice, that any inappropriate behavior could prove to be detrimental to our cause. After the briefing, we all went to change and freshen up for the event. Despite the efforts made by Leliana and Josephine for the Inquisitor to get ready by professionals in Skyhold, the Inquisitor declined. What she desired most in this time of high nerves was the solace of silence in her room. Yes, some silence to quiet the nerves jittering within.

"I am the Inquisitor.  
I have scoured into the darkest areas of Orlais and Ferelden; bringing peace and stability to the areas that need it most. With the power of the Anchor bestowed upon me from Andraste, I destroy the bridges that allow for demons to rage havoc on poor civilians. I save lives by liberating areas from bandits, corpses, and darkspawn. I dethrone the unjust and reward the just. I must judge with a fair eye. I must show no weakness. If I must become a god to give hope and security to my followers so be it." She recited to the woman reflecting back in the mirror. It was almost as if she was casting a spell upon herself to become all that she should be as a leader. Yet, for some reason she couldn't see that person back in the mirror.

"Who am I?" She whispered, letting the words echo in her chamber.

There was a knock on her chamber door. Unknown to her the gentleman had been listening in on her candid soliloquy for a while.

"Come in," she answered and quickly put on her face of security and courage.

"I was told by Leliana to check up on you." Cullen said as he walked into the room closing the door behind him. He turned to look at the Inquisitor and stumbled upon his words.  
"I - you look gorg-I mean. You look well fit for the event." He said quietly cursing at himself for becoming so tongue tied.

She smiled and leaned in, "Why does your compliment sound like you are evaluating a horse for a racing competition?"

He sighed. "You know what I meant."

"Do I, Commander?" She jested.

"Well I hope you do," he shuffled a bit uncomfortable with the spotlight on him.

She smiled silently gazing at the man she loved dearly. She could see the earnest affection and respect he held for her with determined eyes. She wondered how he could be so strong in these uncertain days. Then she remembered the unpleasant stories of Kirkwall and got her answer. She was proud to love a man like him who came out of a conflict stronger and brighter than ever. Her smile faltered when the thought of Celene's ball disrupted her peace.

Cullen noticed the quick change and took her hands. "What's wrong love?" He asked already knowing the answer.

She shook her head. Of all the people, she didn't want him to see her fall apart like this.

"It's nothing. I just thought how terrible it would be if I tripped on the ballroom floor in front of all Orlais. That would be the joke of the century." She laughed. She hoped that her laugh didn't sound as fake as she felt it was.

"Inquisitor. I command you to look me in the eyes and tell me that everything is as fine as you claim it to be."

Her eyes faltered.

"I'm fine, really-" she mustered.

"Persephone, please." He paused. "You don't have to pretend in front of me. Just for this moment, show me the face of the woman behind the mask of the Inquisitor.

Letting out a sigh, she let her mask fall. Exhaustion and doubt shadowed her weary face. Cullen traced over her cheek with his thumb. "Andraste's breath, it's worse than I thought," he examined. She pulled her face close to his chest, letting the soft scent of sandalwood drown out her hesitation. "I'm scared,"she says.

His eyebrows raise in amusement. "The great Herald of Andraste is scared? Scared of what? The impending doom of the open rifts or a slow painful death by the hands of Corypheus? No wait. It must be the Inquisition's enemies. We have a growing line of hungry wolves stalking outside waiting for the right moment to pounce upon the mighty Inquisiton."

She pulled herself out of the embrace and turned away.

"It's not that I'm scared of. I'm scared of the "game." The political charade that the nobles all across the continent play to pass time. It's a game of wicked grace gone wrong. There's more to why I left my noble family than just to join the Circle. I cut ties with them because they treated me like another pawn in their game. They made me think and feel that the only way I could achieve any happiness in life was through that. Except all I found were lies and corruption."


End file.
